


Rêverie

by wyntre



Series: The Space Between Words [6]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, no beta we fall like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28808937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntre/pseuds/wyntre
Summary: Long days would stretch into long nights, where sighs would crash on rocks like so many waves out beyond the safety of the harbour.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: The Space Between Words [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/785187
Kudos: 13





	Rêverie

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, I'm still in Hannibal hell.
> 
> Hannibal & Will elope to Venice rather than Cuba. No, I will not be taking questions at this time.

The hot, Adriatic sun sailed high over the canals of Venice, the city an impressionist painting of dancing reflections and ancient buildings by sparkling waters. A warm breeze tugged at a soft linen shirt, running its gentle fingers over sculpted arms and through greying hair. The long summer days felt as if they would drag on, into oblivion, until time stood still and it was just Will; and Hannibal, and the whole world in dust behind them. As if they would live forever.    
Aching. Hannibal would take Will’s hand and lead him down narrow streets and into coffee shops, and to squares where they would languish in the summer sun, drinking purple-red wine that tasted of berries and memory. They would wander along beaches, the Adriatic sea rolling around rolled pant legs until the sun set in a blaze of crimson and violet streaks across a darkening navy sky.    
  
_ They stood by the large, arched window of the palazzo bedroom watching the boats drift by on the grand canal. Hannibal had his strong arms around Will, his chin resting on his shoulder.  _ _  
_ _ “Did you ever think that this is where we would make our home, Will?” _ _  
_ _ “No. I expected traded letters through prison bars.” _ _  
_ _ “And yet…” _ _  
_ _ Will laced his fingers with the ones that rested on his belly. “ And yet, I find myself drowning in honey, stingless - warm and viscous.” _ _  
_ _ Hannibal's lips brushed over Will's ear. "Tell me, my darling, what do you desire most in this world?" Asking as if it were the first time once more. As if they were still in Hannibal’s office in Baltimore with Will pressed against the wall, softly panting.  _ _  
_ _ He felt Will shudder against him, all possibility and endless expanses of territory both charted and unexplored. _

Venice had afforded them a sanctuary they had never considered possible. They would lie in bed, watching the sunlight reflected onto the painted ceilings, illuminating cherubs and angels that surveyed them as they slept - safe. Here, life kept pace with gondoliers punting down canals and bottles of wine sipped slowly in cool marble interiors, and fierce, heady sunlight warming white sands until they were too hot to stand on in bare feet. Here, Hannibal would drag his fingernails over the dips and planes of Will’s body, marvelling, as if he were painted in oil by the softest, most skilled hand; as if a single wrong movement would disrupt the flow of lines and valleys. Here, a soft gasp sounded like water lapping at stone worn smooth by hundreds of years of rising and falling tides. Long days would stretch into long nights, where sighs would crash on rocks like so many waves out beyond the safety of the harbour. Here, moonlight would filter in through fine muslin curtains, illuminating alabaster-cast bodies entwined beyond recognition. Here, whispers of love spilled over into passionate declarations. 

_ They tumbled into bed. As they often did. Hannibal pinning delicate wrists above Will’s head and taking in a way that only he could. Only he knew and understood. And all Will could do was gasp, throw his beautiful head back and arch his muscular back. Aching, begging without words. And Hannibal obliged.  _ _  
_ _ And when they drowned, they drowned together. Slowly, sweetly. Hannibal held on as they both sank into oblivion under painted palazzo ceilings as the midday sun soared high above the city.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Was this written as a self-indulgent piece because we can't travel and I've been staring at photos of Venice for two days? Yes
> 
> Was this also in part inspired by that bit in Brideshead Revisited where the Flytes take Charles to Venice? Also yes.


End file.
